


Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

by ceilingpool



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Cunnilingus, Keith has never had an orgasm and Shiro is going to Fix It, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Mix of AMAB and AFAB language, Praise Kink, Shiro’s vibrating robot arm, Squirting, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, set before the lion swap but it barely matters, this is porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingpool/pseuds/ceilingpool
Summary: Keith just wants to have an orgasm.___And if he imagines two big hands wrapped snug around his waist, confidently guiding his hips and easing him into the first real pleasure he’s felt tonight, then what of it? If the thought that those same hands could nearly touch if they squeezed just a little— if that thought has his cunt clenching and dripping into his already soaking underwear, what’s the harm? It doesn’t matter what those hands are made of, in this little fantasy. Doesn’t matter if only one of them is flesh and bone.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 804





	Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

**Author's Note:**

> This was a twitter thread that I completely lost control over, so I finished and polished it, and it’s here instead. Thanks to everyone who liked/rt’d/replied to the thread, it really gave me the motivation to fully flesh this out. <3
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by The Smiths.

Keith lets his head fall back against his pillow and takes a deep breath, wills himself to calm down, his body to relax. He's still trying to figure out something that works, but he knows that getting impatient isn't it.

It’s so hard though, when he's so wet around his own fingers, his dick slick and swollen where he rubs in circles with his other hand. God, he needs it so bad.

He focuses on the feeling, trying to direct the heat burning under his skin into something more. His brows scrunch up as he begs his body to cooperate.

It feels...fine. Nice. Entirely underwhelming compared to how desperately he needs  _ something _ to happen. The angle is bad, it’s always bad, every time he tries. His wrist twinges, his fingers are getting stiff. Between trying to ignore the annoying aches and focusing on keeping both hands moving at a pace and rhythm that’s even remotely synchronized, he barely has any brain power left to actually  _ feel _ anything.

This was easier on Earth, where he had a short but reliable list of guys who were happy to help him take the edge off. Sure, they never actually made him cum, but they didn’t know that, and it at least scratched the itch. It was infinitely better than  _ this, _ where all he has is a best friend-slash-leader who’s built like a brick shithouse with a heart of gold, a smile like sunshine, and a voice right out of Keith’s every wet dream. A man who  _ must _ know what he’s doing to Keith given how well he does it, while at the same time Keith is certain that he has no idea the torture he’s putting him through simply by existing.

He...shouldn’t think about that. This is just about Keith, trying to fulfill a biological need, nothing else. Not about  _ why _ he’s so worked up in the first place.

He grunts and flips onto his stomach. There’s a wet spot on his sheets, and when he gets his knees beneath him, the slick on his thighs turns cold and tacky as it dries in the chilly air of the castleship. He reaches behind himself and plunges two fingers back in. Its easier on his wrist, a little, but the angle is worse and now his fingers crook the wrong way. He has to brace on his chest and shoulder to get a hand back on his dick. The angle twinges in his neck and the material of his binder slips against the sheets.

"Fucking  _ fuck! _ " he growls, muffled with his face half mushed into the pillow.

The pillow...

Huh.

It’s never worked before, but this clearly isn't working either. And he fucking.  _ Needs. _ This. 

His pillowcase is about due for a wash anyway.

He grimaces as he slides his boxer briefs back on, the damp fabric now cold and clammy. His overheated body warms it quickly though, and it only takes a few moments of touching himself over the fabric before it’s soaked through with warmth once again.

He gets the pillow folded between his knees, sitting up with one hand braced against the wall and the other holding the pillow steady. He tries an experimental grind, then another, and  _ yeah, _ yeah that’s better than anything else he’s tried all night.

He closes his eyes, lets himself feel the easy friction and breathes with it. His hips find a comfortable rhythm and he sinks into it, moaning at the heat that ripples through him.

And if he imagines two big hands wrapped snug around his waist, confidently guiding his hips and easing him into the first real pleasure he’s felt tonight, then what of it? If the thought that those same hands could nearly touch if they squeezed just a little— if that thought has his cunt clenching and dripping into his already soaking underwear, what’s the harm? It doesn’t matter what those hands are made of, in this little fantasy. Doesn’t matter if only one of them is flesh and bone.

He carefully doesn’t think about any voice at all, not about how it might praise and encourage him, what it might say about the sinuous curve of his back, how it might chuckle low and dirty after feeling the unmistakable evidence between Keith’s legs of just how easy Keith is for him.

It’s safe to imagine a broad chest against his back though, safe to imagine someone— some guy, any guy— on his knees behind him, thick and hard against the swell of Keith’s ass, turned on because of  _ Keith— _ wanting him, maybe even leaking a little, smearing precome into his skin.

“Unnh,” Keith moans, then bites his lip, his voice too loud in his quiet bedroom.

_ “Ah-ah, baby,” _ says some-aguy-any-guy’s voice in his ear. Keith can almost feel the way his hot breath would gust against the sensitive shell of his ear.  _ “Let me hear you. Don’t you feel good?” _

“Yes,” Keith whispers.

_ “Tell me.” _

“Fuck,” Keith gasps, barely noticing how his hips have picked up speed. “It’s so good. Fuck, I want. Want you in me.” He can hear the whine creeping into his voice as he begs his imaginary lover. “I need it, please, I need it so bad. I- I wanna cum.”

_ “Oh you do, do you? Only good boys get to cum, you know.” _

Keith shudders. “I’m good,” he pleads to the air in a broken whisper. “I can be good. Let- let me be good for you.”

_ “Oh, sweet boy,” _ says what could be anyone’s voice. Could be. It sounds like one very, very specific voice, but it could be anyone. 

Could be.

The phantom hands on his body urge him into a deep rolling motion that presses on his dick just right.

“Oh, fuck.”

_ “Just like that. You’re doing so well.” _

His hips angle just right, and the flicker of an ember sparks to life between his hips. He snatches for it, tries to drag it forward, make the spark catch, but the feeling flickers and dissipates before he can grasp it.

“No...” His fists clench.

_ “Shh. Don’t chase it. Patience...” _

“Yields focus, yeah, I know.”

_ “Mm, brat.” _ The hands slow him down until the friction is more tease than relief.  _ “Don’t chase it,” _ he says again.  _ “It will find you, you just have to let it. You’re being so good, just feel this for me, ok?” _

“Yeah...” Keith breathes.

_ “You look so good like this. Bet you taste good too. Bet you’d get your slick all over my face if I got my mouth on your little cock, huh?” _

“Yes, yes,  _ please, _ god.”

_ “Mmm, but you’d be even better on my cock wouldn’t you, baby? Stuff you so full you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself. You know I’m bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before, don’t think I haven’t seen you look. Bet you’d fucking mewl for it, wouldn’t you, beg for me to split you open and ruin you for any other man...” _

“Oh, oh fuck oh fuck, Sh- shit, hah  _ please— _ ”

_ “Shh, shh, let it happen, don’t chase it.” _

“I- fuck, I-I think, I think I’m gonna—”

“All Paladins to battle stations!”

“Huh?” Keith’s brain comes to a creaky, jerking halt, refusing to wrap around the words now that the voice is in his ears instead of his mind.

“All Paladins to your Lions immediately, this is not a drill! Galra fleet approaching!”

It takes one more second for reality to come crashing back.

“Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me. God-fucking-dammit!” Keith slams a fist into his wall but he’s already moving, tearing out of his ruined underwear and swiping at the mess between his legs before scrambling into a fresh pair, followed by his paladin armor. He sprints to Red’s hangar and is launching into space in a dobosh, taking his place as Shiro’s right hand.

The fight is intense. Voltron takes a direct hit and the Lions go careening into space, Zarkon’s fleet focusing their firepower on the castle while the Lions struggle to come back online and regroup.

When they do, it’s with a focused determination that Keith has never seen from them before, commands issued over the comms followed seamlessly, their ragtag group finally working like a real team.

It’s still dicey, and they all take a lot of hits. Keith gets baited into chasing down a group of fighters that form an easy target, and takes a glancing hit from the main ship’s ion cannon when he passes too close.

The restraints keep him in his seat, but he’s thrown so forcefully against them that he knows he’ll have bruises later. He’ll take it. If Red wasn’t as agile, if it had been any other Lion, that hit could’ve been fatal.

“Keith!”

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith grunts, and wheels around to join formation. “Let’s do this.”

\- - -

It’s hard to celebrate their victory when they’re banged up and exhausted, stumbling onto the bridge for debriefing.

“Good work everyone, you all did spectacularly,” Shiro says. “We’ll debrief for real tomorrow, for now everyone get cleaned up and get some rest. Coran is ready in the med bay for anyone who needs any injuries tended. And we’re skipping morning training. Everyone sleep in, you deserve it.”

After a few weak cheers, everyone disperses: Pidge to the med bay for her likely-sprained wrist, Hunk and Lance to the showers, their injuries best helped by soap and hot water.

Keith wants a shower too, but he prefers to do so alone. Hopefully they won’t take too long. He gives Shiro a little wave as he trudges off to his room.

His door slides open and he grimaces.

“Shit.”

With all the excitement, he’d completely forgotten about the state he left his room in. His sheets and pillowcase are completely unusable, so he shoves them down the laundry chute along with his armor and undersuit, and the dirty underwear he’d left on the floor. His binder goes too, soaked through with sweat as it is. 

However laundry on the castle works, it works fast, and Keith looks forward to spreading fresh sheets out and collapsing face first into them as soon as he’s clean.

He shrugs into a tee shirt and sweatpants, ginger with the drawstring as the waistband settles over some purpling bruises on his hips from where he was thrown against his lap belt. When he thinks enough time has passed to grant him some privacy, he grabs some clothes and heads towards the showers.

\- - -

The communal showers are blessedly empty, and the hot water sluicing over his sore muscles feels like heaven. He takes his time washing off the blood, sweat, and grime of the day. Without really meaning to, one of his hands drops between his legs, scratching softly through the short, dark hair there, running his fingers up and down between his lips in a way that warms and tingles pleasantly through him.

The only sound to be heard is the steady white noise of the running water, but in Keith’s mind, someone (could be anyone) finds him here, walks right up and crowds up behind him, settles those big hands on his waist like they belong there. They do belong there, Keith knows, and his this fantasy his lover knows it, too.

_ “Dirty thing,” _ says the right voice,  _ “touching yourself here in the showers, where anyone could come in and see you. You were hoping I’d come in and see you like this, weren’t you?” _

“Yes,” Keith breathes to the room, a blanket agreement. His cunt throbs once and he feels the beginnings of wetness against his fingertips. He dips a finger inside and spreads the building slickness over his dick, slowly circling his fingers and enjoying the buzz it sets humming beneath his skin.

_ “Just like that, you’re doing so good. Keep it slow. How’s that feel, baby?” _

“Mmm, good.”

_ “Good, you’re being so good for me. Such a good boy, doing just what I say.” _

A whiny moan escapes Keith’s parted lips, not loud but still enough to echo.

_ “Oh you like that, huh?” _ His voice would be low and heated, he’d press his crooked grin into Keith’s neck, amused at how obvious Keith is, how easy to work up.  _ “Being my good boy? You like knowing how hard you get me, how bad I want you?” _

All Keith can offer is a wordless moan.

“Hello? Someone in the showers?”

Are you  _ fucking _ serious.

“Just me, Shiro.” Keith hopes his voice doesn’t sound as breathy as he thinks it does.

“Oh, hey Keith. You ok? I walked in and it sounded like someone was in pain.”

Keith face flames and he would like nothing more than to follow the running water down the drain. “Just some bumps and bruises. I’m fine.”

He keeps expecting to see Shiro round the corner, but it sounds like he’s just standing on the other side of the wall. “O-ok, well, I came in to get a shower, but I can come back later when you’re done?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, I’m almost done. Just stay there for like, thirty seconds.”

He rinses quickly between his legs and makes sure all the conditioner is out of his hair before cutting the water and grabbing his towel from the ledge, scrubbing quickly through his hair and drying his chest just enough to wriggle into his skin-tone binder. He’s tying his towel around his hips when he calls for Shiro to come in.

Shiro strolls in with a hand raised in greeting, but his hand drops with his eyes, where they land about halfway down his body.

“Keith,” he gasps, and rushes toward him.

Idiotically, for a moment Keith thinks it’s finally happening. Like for some reason, seeing him fresh from the shower would be enough to finally make Shiro want him. For just one breathless moment, he thinks he’s about to be swept up in Shiro’s arms and kissed within an inch of his life.

But Shiro stops just in front of him, looking far more horrified than ardent. “Keith, your  _ hips. _ ”

What? He glances down, and realizes that the coloring he noticed before has bloomed further into some truly nasty bruising.

“You need to go to the med bay.”

“I’m fine, Shiro.”

“Keith, those bruises look  _ bad. _ ”

“I said I’m fine!” Keith doesn’t mean or want to snap at him, but he’s feeling foolish for believing Shiro wanted him and it leaves him defensive and prone to lashing out. He’s already preparing for the wash of guilt when Shiro backs down, when his eyes shutter in hurt and his voice goes quiet.

But that’s not what happens.

“And I’m saying you’re not!”

Keith does not expect at all for Shiro to take him by the shoulder and crowd him until their chests are nearly touching. Keith’s mad, sort of, but the proximity has his body reacting and he resists the urge to squeeze his thighs together. “As your commanding officer, I am ordering you to get treatment for your injuries. If you don’t want to go to the med bay, fine. I have some healing salve in my room, you can meet me there in, say, twenty minutes. Those are your two options.”

“Ugh, fine,” Keith relents. After all, it’s not Shiro’s fault that Keith has unrealistic hopes. “You’re such a mother hen. I’ll come to your room.”

Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and pulls him into a hug. “I nag because I care,” he says. 

He pulls back and runs a thumb over Keith’s cheek. It’s too tender, too intimate, and it freezes Keith in place. The moment drags for an endless moment before Shiro steps back, clearing his throat and dropping his hand. “Don’t make me come find you.”

Keith can breathe again. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He rolls his eyes, and Shiro flicks him gently on the forehead. 

“Brat. See you in twenty.”

Shiro walks off, stripping his shirt as he goes, and Keith turns away. He hears the shower water start, and Keith drops his towel and reaches for his clothes.

“Keith!”

Keith glances over his shoulder at Shiro’s shocked expression, and tries not to let his gaze lower. Well. He tries to try.

“You’ve seen asses before, Shiro, chill. Nothing exciting about this one.”

Keith turns away again to step into his underwear and pajamas while Shiro mutters something under his breath.

“You say something?”

Shiro’s facing the shower wall now, his back to Keith. “No.”

“Ok. Well, see you in a few.”

\- - -

And that’s how Keith ends up here.

Standing between Shiro’s parted thighs with his shirt hiked up high and his sweatpants slung low, a cool metal hand braced on his waist while the flesh one gently,  _ oh-so-gently _ spreads a thick healing salve over the bruising on his hips.

“How’s that feel?”

_ “How’s that feel, baby?” _

“F-fine.” It’s too high, too breathy. Keith clears his throat, tries for some semblance of normal. “It’s fine.”

Shiro’s being absolutely clinical, completely professional about this. How fucked up is Keith that he’s getting off on it? A metal thumb strokes just at the edge of his binder, a soft back and forth that Shiro seems entirely unconscious of, and Keith’s so glad that Shiro has no way of knowing about the wet patch currently forming in his underwear.

“Hey, you ok? You’re shaking a little. Am I hurting you?”

Shiro’s eyes are so genuine, so open and caring, and all Keith can think about is how bad he wants to sit on his face.

Both of Shiro’s hands now skim up and down his waist, an innocent, comforting gesture, and Keith lets out a truly horrifying whimper before he can swallow it back down. “No you’re- it’s fine. I’m fine,” he croaks. He hopes his voice sounds more normal than he thinks it does, and knows that it absolutely does not. Not with Shiro’s gaze drawing up to his face, brows scrunched and eyes searching.

He has no idea what Shiro sees, no idea what exactly his face is doing, only knows that he’s entirely obvious with it, that whatever this terrified-desperate-longing emotion he’s feeling is written all over him.

“Keith...” Oh god, Shiro’s hands are moving inward, thumbs stroking over his belly now, an attempt to soothe him because Keith is obviously not ok. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Fuck, Shiro is  _ worried _ about him, and Keith’s about to soak through the fabric of his boxer-briefs.

“I- I...” he tries for anything, any explanation. What comes out in a breathless whisper is, “I can’t think when you do that.”

The hands fall away abruptly and Keith’s face is on fire.

Shiro stares. Blinks.

“Keith are you... turned on...?”

Keith wants to sink through the floor. If he ruins this friendship he will never forgive himself.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, it’s just. Been so long since anyone has touched me and I- I didn’t mean to, I swear, and I’m just… gonna go now before I can make anything even weirder.”

Keith means to leave, turn around and just walk out, but he’s being drawn forward by those gentle hands on his hips that carefully avoid the bruising.

“Shh, Keith. It’s ok.” Shiro sounds like he’s calming a spooked animal. “You have nothing to apologize for. Open your eyes.”

Reluctantly, Keith does. He didn’t realize he’d closed them.

God, Shiro’s eyes.

“I understand,” Shiro murmurs. “A little too well, maybe. It’s been a long time for me too.”

He stops there. Keith has no idea what he’s meant to say to that, tries to breathe but the implication that Shiro might need it too is suffocating. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants it from  _ Keith. _ He’s just a friend showing solidarity, showing him that at least Keith isn’t alone in his sexual frustration.

Shiro lets the silence hang, and calmly finishes smoothing the salve over Keith’s skin while Keith silently questions how his life got to this point. He pats the side of Keith’s hip where the bruises don’t reach.

“There. All done.” But he doesn’t let go. “So... if you want to, you can leave, and we’ll forget the awkward parts ever happened, and go about our lives. You’ll still be my best friend and nothing will ever change that.” He pauses. “Or...”

Keith’s heart is pounding in his throat. “Or?”

“Or...” his smile is so soft, so earnest as he looks up at Keith. “You could stay.”

“And what-” Keith swallows against the dryness in his mouth. “What would staying entail?”

Shiro’s hands squeeze. “Whatever you want.”

Holy fuck is this  _ happening? _

“That’s- that’s a lot to offer,” Keith manages.

“I’m offering.”

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, this is happening. Keith mind races, paralyzing him, and he has no idea what his face is doing but Shiro seems to understand, waiting patiently for Keith to catch up to himself, until he can gasp out the simplest thing he can think of that he wants because he wants  _ everything. _

“Kiss me.”

And Shiro’s on him, towering over him suddenly with both hands on his face, laying claim to Keith’s mouth with his own. He takes him apart with his lips and teeth and tongue until Keith is a quivering mess, palming at whatever part of Shiro’s body he can reach because he  _ needs... _

“What do you need, baby?”

Everything. 

Keith needs everything, but in this moment he knows what he needs most. “Fuck me.”

Shiro groans and the sound throbs inside him.

He steers Keith back towards the bunk, barely letting their lips part for a second, but he pauses before they tumble onto the mattress, tilts Keith chin up with one finger in a way that makes his heart flutter and his underwear wetter.

“Are you sure?”

Keith has never been more sure of anything.

“Yes, Shiro, please. I need you.”

“Ok, baby,” Shiro says, and Keith shudders. “I’ll take care of you.”

Then he drops onto the bed and hauls Keith on top of him, recapturing Keith’s mouth and burying one hand in his hair and the other curling around his ribs to help brace him so he doesn’t put too much pressure on his hips.

It sucks, how gentle they have to be. Keith loves grinding, and he loves a big pair of hands on his hips. “When I’m healed,” he murmurs into Shiro’s mouth. “You’re gonna hold onto my hips and fuck me so hard that I get new bruises in the shape of your hands.”

Shiro pulls back to stare at him, and Keith has a brief moment to panic that maybe Shiro didn’t mean for this to be more than a one time thing. Maybe this is all he gets.

But Shiro gasps his name, grips Keith’s thighs hard instead and moans, “Christ, you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

Keith grins. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he’d be able to affect Shiro even a fraction of the amount that Shiro affects him. He plucks at Shiro’s shirt. “Take this off.”

“Yes  _ sir, _ ” Shiro teases with a sultry wink, and immediately gets stuck with his shirt halfway over his head. “Um, Keith? Little help?”

Keith snorts and tugs it the rest of the way off, tossing it to the side and staring down at him. There’s a whole broad expanse of chest and shoulders that Keith is very eager to take in, but Shiro’s expression is so hopelessly fond that it stalls Keith out, has him sweetly brushing a thumb across Shiro’s cheek.

“You’re such a dork.”

Shiro grins. “You love me.”

Immediately, Shiro’s eyes widen. “I- I mean—”

If Keith lets Shiro backtrack, he may never get the nerve to say it again.

“I do.” If showing his hand is a mistake, then so be it. It’s the truth. “I love you, Shiro. I’ve loved you for a long, long time.”

Shiro’s eyes are still wide, but it’s with something like awe and relief, and maybe Keith is projecting a little but he knows how to read Shiro’s face and it’s saying  _ finally. _ “I love you too, Keith. So much, god, baby, so fucking much—”

Keith keens and captures Shiro’s reddened mouth with his. “Fuck, Shiro,” Keith gasps against his lips. “Call- call me baby again.”

“Oh, baby.” Shiro eyes are dark, dark,  _ dark _ . “That what you like?”

“Uh-huh,” Keith whines.

Shiro hums, pleased. “I’m gonna take such good care of you. And you’re going to be so good for me, won’t you? Gonna be my good baby boy?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck it’s every fantasy Keith’s ever had and he’s living it, except it’s so much  _ better. _

“Yes,” Keith moans. “Yes, fuck, Shiro, please I need it I need it—”

God, he’s never felt so out of control and he’s barely even been touched.

“Shh, Keith. I’m right here.” He runs those hands up and down Keith’s back, gentling him. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, ok?”

“Ok,” Keith sighs, settling.

“Now take this off for me, yeah?” Shiro plucks at Keith’s shirt the same way Keith had and Keith smiles, sitting back on Shiro’s hips and pulling his shirt over his head.

“Gorgeous,” Shiro whispers, and Keith blushes. He runs a thumb along the edge of Keith’s binder. “Does this go on or off?”

An icy stab of anxiety hits Keith. He’s never taken it off during sex, but this is Shiro. If Shiro wants him to...he doesn’t want to disappoint him.

“Um, I- I’d like to leave it on? If that’s ok?”

“Hey.” Shiro’s voice goes serious, but his eyes are so, so soft. “I don’t get to make any decisions about your comfort level. If you want it to stay on, it stays on. There’s no question. I think you’re beautiful, no matter what.”

Keith’s heart is so full he feels like he’s going to burst. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Can I sit on your cock now?”

“Keith,  _ Jesus. _ ”

“Is that a yes?”

Shiro grips his thighs tight again, groaning at the ceiling. “You really are going to kill me.” He takes a deep breath and Keith watches, impressed, as Shiro visibly takes control of himself.

“Hop off.” He gives Keith’s thigh a pat. “Let’s see if we can’t get you taken care of.”

Part of Keith wants to protest— he likes where he’s sitting quite a bit thank-you-very-much, but he knows when something is in his best interest and whatever taking care of him means to Shiro, Keith knows he wants it.

Keith rolls onto his back and Shiro is immediately between his parted legs, fiddling with the drawstring of Keith’s sweatpants.

“I could get used to seeing you between my legs,” Keith teases.

Shiro kisses his leg and smirks. “I could get used to being here. Can I take these off?”

“Mhm. Take all of it.”

Shiro hooks his fingers around the waistband of Keith’s underwear too. “You sure?”

Keith smiles. “Positive.”

Shiro tugs and Keith lifts his hips to help, but Shiro stops halfway down his thighs. “Keith,” he gasps. “Keith,  _ baby, _ oh my god...”

Keith props up on his elbows and sees Shiro’s eyes caught on the thick, clear string connecting from Keith’s underwear to his sopping wet cunt.

Keith smiles, a little bit sheepish, mostly pleased, as the tent in Shiro’s sweats twitches and he looks more than a little amazed. “You did that,” Keith whispers.

When Shiro looks up at his face again, his eyes are  _ black. _

“C’mon, big boy,” Keith goads, nudging Shiro into action. “Get a move on. I promise it feels even better than it looks.”

Shiro shakes his head and gets with the program. Keith grins when he says under his breath, “Really gonna fucking kill me...”

It takes a matter of seconds for Shiro to finish getting Keith’s clothes off and removing his own, and then it’s Keith’s turn to be astonished.

Shiro’s dick is... well, Keith already knew he was  _ big _ , but... most guys are either growers  _ or _ showers.

“Holy shit...”

And it’s Shiro turn to preen a little bit, one part bashful and a two parts smug as Keith whimpers when he gives himself a few strokes. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh...” Keith can’t even pretend like he has any composure left. “I- I need it Shiro, please. Please take care of me.”

“Oh, baby, I will. Gonna take such good care of you.” He strokes his hands up Keith’s inner thighs, drawing circles with his thumbs right as he meets the apex of them. “Let me prep you a little, first. You said it’s been a while and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Keith would tease Shiro that he’s flattering himself, but.

Shiro’s thumb strokes close,  _ so close _ to where Keith needs him and it’s distracting enough that he almost agrees, but, “No, Shiro I want you  _ now _ , please don’t make me wait. I- I like it, when it hurts little.”

Shiro’s patience must be wearing as thin as Keith’s is because he doesn’t argue, just gets a pillow settled at the small of Keith’s back and presses a single sweet kiss to the inside of his knee.

Shiro just  _ has _ to ask though. Keith knew he would.

“Are you sure?”

“Shiro,” Keith rolls his eyes with fond exasperation. “I have wanted you since I knew what it meant to want someone. And I think I’ve waited long enough, don’t you?”

Shiro’s eyes are so soft as he looks Keith over. “Yeah, baby. Yeah I do. Just—” he pauses. “Just tell me if you don’t like something, or if you want me to stop or slow down, ok?”

“I promise.”

That seems to satisfy him well enough, because he’s  _ finally _ getting on with it. Keith gasps when Shiro strokes two fingers up his center, gathering some slick to stroke over his cock. He drags the swollen head through Keith’s folds as he lines up and Keith bites his lip in anticipation.

The very first nudge of Shiro’s cock inside of him has Keith’s fingers digging into the sheets.

“Oh...” Keith had known that Shiro was bigger than anyone he’d ever been with before, but  _ feeling _ it is an entire different matter.

“Ok?”

“Yes, fuck, keep going.”

Shiro nudges his way inside, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed in Keith’s body and Keith is fuller than he’s ever been, cunt twitching around the girth splitting him open. “Oh, fuck, Shiro...”

Pushing in, Shiro had been mostly quiet, too focused on being careful, watching Keith’s reactions for any hint of discomfort. But now, as he pulls back and gives Keith a tentative thrust, his own moan echoes with Keith’s.

“Keith, ah,  _ baby, _ ” Shiro groans. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight...”

Keith whines, rolls his hips, tries to fuck himself on Shiro’s cock since Shiro’s taking his sweet time about it. This is great, amazing, life-changing, but he needs Shiro to fucking  _ move. _

“So impatient...” Shiro hums. He gets a grip on the underside of Keith’s thighs, and on the next thrust forward, he snaps his hips forward and drives in hard.

“Unh  _ fuck! _ ” God,  _ yes, _ this is what he’s needed. 

“Yeah? Good?” Shiro asks, hips snapping again, self-satisfied tone saying that he already knows the answer. Has his voice always been that deep?

“Yes, yes, just like that just like that, Shiro, fuck, don’t stop!”

And he doesn’t.

Shiro groans his name and fucking plows into him like Shiro’s needed this just as much as Keith has.

He bends down to ravage Keith’s mouth in a filthy kiss, nipping at his lips and sucking on his tongue, swallowing Keith’s moans as he clutches at his shoulders, rolling down to meet Shiro’s thrusts to get him impossibly deeper.

“Keith, Keith, baby,” Shiro moans. “So  _ -ah- _ good, fuck, feels like you’re sucking me in, so fucking perfect baby...”

Keith has never heard Shiro like this and he never wants to stop.

“I-I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Shiro admits into Keith’s throat. “Are you getting close?”

Oh. Keith’s gut squirms. This is easily the best sex he’s had in his entire life, and it would be so easy to just say yes... but he’s never lied to Shiro, and this seems the wrong place to start. So he deflects.

“Feels so good, Shiro,” Keith pants. “Don’t stop...”

Shiro gets in a few more good thrusts before his brows scrunch up and his hips slow to an agonizing pace, more just grinding into Keith than thrusting.

“That wasn’t a yes,” Shiro murmurs.

Even in the midst of mind-blowing sex, Shiro knows him too well for his own damn good.

“Shiro...” Keith whines. “It’s not important- please, just keep going, I wanna make you cum.”

And Shiro...starts pulling out?!

“What? No, no- Shiro  _ please! _ ” Keith tries to wrap his legs around Shiro to keep him in place, but Shiro easily breaks free of the hold.

“Hey, shh...” Shiro strokes up and down Keith’s sides, soothing, and Keith hates that it works. “I said I was going to take care of you, so let me?”

“I-I just...” Keith stammers. “I mean no one’s ever been able to make me, y’know, and um...” Why is this so hard to say? “Just if- if nothing, um,  _ happens, _ I just don’t want you to think it’s you...”

The look in Shiro’s eyes is both incredulous and dangerous. It makes Keith’s gut churn, not entirely unpleasantly. “No one... no one you’ve _ever_ been with has gotten you off? Keith that’s _not_ _ok_ , what kind of selfish—”

“No, Shiro, it’s not like that!” Keith feels the need to defend his past lovers. They were all decent guys, and Keith’s struggles weren’t their fault. “They didn’t know. I- I faked it, with them.” He tilts his face into the pillow, looking anywhere but at Shiro. “I just... I couldn’t lie to you.”

There’s a moment of silence, then gently, Shiro tilts Keith’s face with one big hand, and places a long, sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, “for being honest with me. Can you show me what works when you do it? I’m realizing now that I probably interrupted you having some, uh, ‘you time’ earlier, so sorry about that, and I’d love to pick up where you left off.”

“Wh- no, it wasn’t— Well I mean, I  _ was, _ but I wasn’t like...y’know...”

Shiro’s looking at him like maybe if he stares hard enough Keith will start to make sense.

Keith heaves a heavy sigh. “I was, um,  _ touching myself,” _ his face grows hot, “but I wasn’t— I mean, I wasn’t close or anything. I’ve never actually really found anything that works, so. I was trying, but...not really  _ getting _ anywhere. So no harm, no foul right?”

“Keith...” Shiro says haltingly, “are you saying you’ve...  _ never _ had an orgasm? Like ever?”

“Um. Yeah. Not for lack of trying,” Keith rolls his eyes with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m starting to think that maybe my body just doesn’t...do that. Like, I think maybe I’ve gotten close a few times, but I’m honestly not even sure. Maybe that was actually it and I didn’t even realize?”

Shiro tilts his head side to side in an agree-to-disagree motion. “It’s possible,” he allows, “but I think you’d know. Has anyone ever gone down on you?”

Keith covers his heated face with his hands with an embarrassed laugh. “Oh my god... _ yes, _ Shiro, I’ve gotten head before. I do  _ actually _ have decent taste in guys. I really like it, it’s just never been enough actually get me there, y’know? And then I start feeling awkward because it’s taking so long and nothing’s happening, and then I usually end up faking it...”

Shiro considers this.

“Would it be ok if I went down on you?”

Holy shit, yes, yes that is very much ok, but, “You don’t have to. I mean yes, you can, but I just want you to be prepared for it to be kinda pointless, and since you won’t really get anything out of it—”

“Where,” Shiro interrupts lowly, “did you get the idea that I wouldn’t get anything out of it? Baby I have touched myself more times than I care to admit to the thought of my face between your legs. So if I’m enjoying myself and it makes you feel good, is it really pointless?”

“Wh- really?” Thinking of Shiro jerking off to thoughts of him is...wow.

Shiro huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Mhmm. So...may I?

Keith lets his thighs splay open. “Please.”

Shiro places a swift kiss to Keith’s lips, then to his sternum over the binder, and makes his way down Keith’s belly and down to his thighs. At first he just bathes Keith’s inner thighs with kisses, licking and sucking so frustratingly gently, moving from one to the other, nothing but his hot breath touching where Keith wants him most. 

Of course the real Shiro would be just as much of a goddamn tease as the one in his fantasies.

Keith makes an aggravated noise and tries to direct Shiro’s head with his thighs.

“Fussy, fussy,” Shiro admonishes with a smirk. He takes a firm grip under Keith’s knees and pins them up and out so Keith is entirely on display for him. Shiro licks his lips appreciatively while Keith squirms at being so exposed. “You really are a bendy little thing, aren’t you baby?”

Keith is probably going to say something, but Shiro chooses that moment to part the lips of Keith’s cunt with his tongue and draw the flat of it right up the center. The touch of it is electric— Keith cries out and his hips jerk out of his control, chasing that feeling, that mouth, even as it pulls away. 

Shiro leaves his tongue sticking out, connected to Keith by a thin string mixed of spit and Keith’s own slick. His eyes dance at Keith slack-jawed expression, and he lets go of one leg to make a show of breaking the string with a finger and sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuuuck, Shiro...” Keith whines. “God, why are you always such a  _ tease? _ ”

Shiro arches an eyebrow. “Always? I’m pretty sure I’d remember doing this before.”

“I—um.” Keith is so turned on he can barely think and all that will come to him is the truth. “I- I think about you, too, when I...touch myself. I don’t mean to. I try not to. I just... can’t help myself, and you- you always make me drag it out and tell me to be patient and you say- you say...”

“What, baby?” His voice is low and gravelled out, his eyes so heavy and intense as he hangs on Keith’s words. “What do I say?”

Keith swallows, feels himself clench around nothing as he imagines it. “You tell me that- that only good boys get to cum.”

Shiro swears. “And then what? Are you good for me?”

“Yes,” Keith whispers. “I always want to be good for you.”

Shiro’s looking at him in wonder, like even though Shiro put Keith here himself, he’s still surprised to find him naked in his bed. “You really are my dream come true, you know that?”

“Shiro...” It’s all he can think to say.

It seems to be enough for Shiro, who gets back between Keith’s legs and gets to work. He licks another thick stripe between Keith’s lips, and Keith should have appreciated that direct contact on his dick for the second he had it because Shiro seems determined not to let him have it again. He swirls his tongue around Keith’s entrance, breaching him with the very tip of his pointed tongue before pulling back to lick up, up,  _ so _ close every time before glancing off to the side, sometimes circling over and lapping at the little hood but never ever giving his dick any focused attention.

It’s making him so sensitized to every sensation that he feels like if something doesn’t happen— and  _ soon—  _ he’s going to shake apart.

“Shiro...”

He wants to bury his hands in Shiro’s hair, tug him in and  _ make _ him give Keith what he wants, but a part of him revels in the desperation. Most head he’s gotten, the guy goes straight for his dick, maybe he fucks him with his tongue for a bit before going back, but this is something entirely different. This is torture and it’s  _ exquisite. _

“Mhmm?” 

“Hahh, oh god...” The sound vibrates against Keith and he jerks, gasping, and he swears he can  _ feel _ Shiro smirking against him. “S-stop fucking  _ teasing _ me... Finger me or suck my dick or- or  _ something, _ I-I need it Shiro,  _ please.” _

“Oh, but baby...” Shiro coos when he pulls back. His nose and lips and chin are shiny with Keith’s slick. “You’re doing so good, being so patient. Can you keep being good for a little longer?”

Oh, that’s not fair. “I- I-”

“For me?”

It’s more than Keith can resist.

“Ok,  _ fine, _ just... promise you’re going to take care of me?”

“Oh, baby,” Shiro murmurs, pressing a line of soft kisses up his thigh. “I promise. Just trust me, ok?”

There’s no one in the world Keith trusts more. “O-ok...” he trails off into a moan as Shiro’s tongue works at him once more.

Keith loses himself in it, clenching and unclenching his hands in Shiro’s sheets, feeling his cunt throb each time Shiro’s tongue approaches his dick, thinking _maybe_ _this time, maybe this time_ and he can feel himself dripping, knows that these sheets are going to be just as hopelessly ruined as his own were.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Shiro pulls back to say. He kisses over Keith’s mound and the soft skin of his lower belly. “Being so patient for me. Are you ready for more?”

“Yes,  _ fuck.” _

“Mm-mm...” Shiro shakes his head. “What do good boys say?”

“Please...”

“Good boy,” Shiro rumbles, and then a thick finger pushes into him.

“Yess,” Keith hisses, the slide of Shiro’s thick finger in and out of him almost absurdly easy, and it’s such a relief to have something,  _ anything _ , inside of him that it takes him a moment to figure out that Shiro’s not planning on giving him any relief at all.

Shiro moves so slowly that he can only be deliberately riling Keith up— he laughs, so fucking smug, when Keith whines and rocks his hips to try and take him faster, and pulls his finger just out of reach.

Keith’s leg kicks out and he growls his frustration. He’s never been teased so mercilessly and he wants to demand that Shiro cut it out, but...Shiro said to trust him and Keith does, without hesitation. 

Shiro wants him to be good.

So Keith releases a heavy breath, lets his head fall back onto the pillow, and waits for whatever Shiro has in store for him next.

“That’s it,” Shiro says, and when Keith glances down at him, the smugness is gone from Shiro’s face, replaced by something so warm and fond that Keith’s belly flips. “Perfect,” Keith hears before his eyes slam shut when two fingers push inside and set a steady pace that has Keith’s toes curling.

Maybe it’s a reward for his moment of self-control, but Keith doesn’t care  _ why _ he’s getting what he wants, only that it’s finally happening, and “Oh, fuck fuck  _ fuck,” _ that’s Shiro’s lips closing around his dick, applying light suction while his tongue does something  _ mind-bending _ that has Keith’s eyes rolling back and a noise escaping him that he’s never made in his life.

Shiro hums and sparks shoot up Keith’s core.

Keith is typically vocal enough in bed, likes his partner to know they’re doing a good job, but he’s never been noisy like  _ this. _ This is uncontrollable, embarrassing desperate noises that would have him clapping a hand over his mouth if only he could unclench his fists from the sheets.

Body-warm metal grips the soft flesh of his thigh, keeping him open and spread, with no chance of writhing out of Shiro’s grasp when he starts crooking his fingers with every thrust and then  _ not fucking letting up. _

The pleasure borders on unbearable, like his body wasn’t built to sustain it.

Shiro hums against him again and that same spark he felt before flares to life, fanned higher with each pass of Shiro’s tongue.

“Oh fuck,” Keith whimpers.

He grabs at the feeling, back arching off the bed as he tries to drag it forward. It flickers, dimming, and Keith grits his teeth and tugs harder— he  _ needs _ this, he needs his body to cooperate, needs to prove to Shiro beyond the shadow of a doubt that he’s making Keith feel better than he’s ever felt.

The feeling diminishes further, down to a glowing ember that Keith claws for but slips through his fingers and stays just out of his reach.

Keith growls and snatches at it again and again, until Shiro pulls back with a frown and it dies completely.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” Shiro carelessly wipes his fingers off on the sheets and traces soothing tracks up and down Keith’s body. “You’re way too tense, baby, talk to me. You don’t sound like you’re having a good time anymore.”

Keith presses his palms to his eyes and bites his lip, hard. It’s stupid that he wants to cry, it’s all just so  _ frustrating. _

Shiro gives Keith plenty of time to gather his thoughts, hands helping to relax him. When it becomes obvious, however, that Keith is not going to answer, Shiro presses.

“Did something not feel good?” he asks softly. “Did I hurt you? You’re- you’re scaring me a little.”

“No! No, nothing like that!” Shiro’s distress finally jumpstarts Keith into action. He blinks rapidly as his hands drop from his face. “I liked everything you did, I swear. That’s literally the best I’ve ever felt in my life. I just- it’s my fault. I felt like I was getting close and I tried to force it, and then I just...couldn’t. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Keith smiles ruefully, and maybe it covers the way his lip trembles. “I’m sorry for ruining the mood.”

And then Shiro is there, pulling Keith in, peppering his face with kisses until Keith laughs and swats at him. Shiro pulls back smiling. “You didn’t ruin anything, ok? I love you, Keith. You couldn’t possibly disappoint me, no matter what. Do you believe me?”

Shiro has never lied to him.

“I love you too.” That’s the easy part. Shiro waits, expectant but patient.

Keith has never lied to Shiro. If he says it, it needs to be the truth.

Keith swallows. “I- yes. I believe you.”

Shiro kisses his forehead, then his nose.

“Good.” Shiro laughs then— it bubbles out of him and crinkles the corners of his eyes. Keith doesn’t know what’s funny, but it sounds so happy that it makes him smile.

“Hey.” Keith nudges him. “Share the joke with the rest of the class.”

“There’s no joke, I’m just. I’m so happy I get to say I love you, now. And I can say it whenever I want. I love you.” He smack a wet kiss to Keith’s cheek, making him squawk. “I love you.” Then the other cheek. Then his forehead, chin, and cheeks again, declaring his love between each one. 

“Oh my god, ok!” Keith finally pushes his face away, laughing. “I love you too, you big lug. Now c’mere and kiss me like you mean it.”

Shiro’s bright, happy face face shifts, still just and soft and filled with love, but darker, heavy with intent. “Mm, now that I can do.”

Shiro’s mouth when he takes Keith’s in a deep, claiming kiss carries the sweet tang of Keith’s cunt; Keith moans and tries to lick it off Shiro’s tongue.

Shiro buries his hands in Keith’s hair and uses his grip to hold Keith still while he plunders his mouth, and all Keith can do is grip onto Shiro’s thick forearms like a lifeline and allow himself to be pressed down into the sheets as Shiro crowds over him.

Some of Keith’s ardor had cooled in his frustration, but it comes back with a vengeance as Shiro sucks a deep mark into his neck and digs his teeth in just a little too hard.

Keith jerks and cries out, and when Shiro tries to pull back to check on him, Keith gets a fistful of his bangs and shoves his face into the other side of his neck and growls,  _ “Harder.” _

Shiro does not disappoint.

It’s not quite hard enough to break the skin, but only just. The pain zips down his spine and throbs inside him; Keith aches with how badly he needs something to fill him.

“Ah! Hah, Shiro please, I need- I need-”

“I know what you need,” Shiro breathes into his ear.

And before Keith can process the movement, Shiro is back between his legs, two fingers deep and smearing Keith’s own juices across his over-sensitive dick with his tongue.

Keith’s back arches hard, shocked cry echoing off the ceiling and tapering into a needy whine when the hot friction of Shiro’s tongue disappears.

“Wha—”

“Shh, relax for me.” Shiro strokes a cool metal palm over the heated skin of his belly. “Good boy,” he praises when Keith’s back sinks back down to the mattress and his abs unclench.

Shiro’s mouth returns and it feels like no time at all until tension coils in his muscles— and then it’s taken away again with another command to relax, and more praise as Keith manages to comply.

It’s aggravating enough that Shiro keeps taking his mouth off of Keith right when he’s starting to feel really good, but Shiro isn’t subtle  _ at all _ about this little positive reinforcement system to make Keith keep himself relaxed.

What’s most aggravating is that it’s  _ working. _ Keith feels himself start to tense and wills himself back down; the hum of Shiro’s approval vibrates through his dick and Shiro’s tongue doesn’t stop.

In the small part of his brain that isn’t completely consumed with desire, Keith is begrudgingly impressed.

When Keith is relaxing nearly automatically— he refuses to think the word ‘trained’ because it makes him flush hot and feel things he isn’t prepared to unpack— and feels like he’s going to combust out of his skin, Shiro pulls off but keeps his fingers moving in that infinitely distracting ‘come hither’ motion.

“You’re doing so amazing, Keith, being so good. I’m gonna try something, ok? And if you don’t like it, tell me I’ll stop immediately. Understand?”

Shiro waits for Keith’s breathy affirmation before gently starting to rub Keith’s dick with the thumb and forefinger of his Galra hand.

It’s a nice sensation, less yielding than Shiro’s tongue, the textured pads of his fingertips just different enough from a flesh and bone hand to have him gasping with the unexpected friction. He settles quickly, though, and preens when Shiro tells him again how good he’s being.

As Shiro keeps gently rolling his dick between his two fingers, Keith idly wonders why Shiro would’ve thought he might not like this. Just as Keith is concluding that it’s probably just that the texture is a little different and Shiro’s just being cautious of Keith’s comfort, he has half a moment to realize that mere textured fingertips were  _ not _ the ‘something’ that Shiro wanted to try, before he stops thinking altogether because Shiro’s fingers start to  _ vibrate. _

Keith shouts, entire body locking up in the face of the intense and unexpected pleasure.

Shiro gives him a few more moments, the tips of his fingers just holding Keith’s dick gently between them, before the vibrations cut off.

Keith blinks stupidly at Shiro and he smirks. Instead of offering an explanation of how or, more questionably,  _ why, _ he just murmurs, “Deep breath, baby. Be good and relax for me. Remember, only good boys get to cum.”

“Fuck,” Keith whimpers. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to relax with Shiro serving up his fantasy on a silver platter, but he’ll do whatever it takes to get that feeling back, so he takes that deep breath and obeys.

Shiro’s words of approval are lost beneath Keith’s ragged moan as the vibrations start again.

Keith’s muscles twitch, wanting again to seize against the onslaught of sensation but if he gives in then Shiro will stop, and Keith will do everything in his power to keep that from happening.

In trying to keep control of his body, Keith has lost all control of his voice. He can hear himself but he can’t stop; any sense of sultriness has abandoned him, leaving him whiny and whimpering— pathetic, embarrassing sounds that come out too honest.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Shiro encourages.  _ “Fuck, _ God Keith, you sound so fucking sexy, listen to you. Feels good, doesn’t it? I could keep you in bed for hours, just like this, squirming on my fingers. See what other pretty sounds I can get out of you.”

Holy shit. Keith can feel himself get impossibly wetter, leaking out around Shiro’s fingers.

“Would you like that, baby?” Shiro continues. “Think I could make you cry? I bet I could, bet I could make you cry on my cock, too. And you’d love every second, wouldn’t you?”

Shiro doesn’t seem to expect Keith to actually be able to answer, which is a good thing because all Keith can do is whine louder and tense up, feeling the way his cunt flutters and tightens.

Shiro moans when he feels it, like Keith is split open on his cock rather than his fingers. “Mm, yeah you fucking would,” Shiro grunts, and moans again when Keith throbs, and it’s that that sets Keith off.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps as the smoldering embers between his hips flare to life. “I-I can feel it.”

Shiro sucks in a sharp breath, and when he speaks again he sounds far more in control of himself. “Good, baby, good. Don’t reach for it, stay here with me and just feel, ok?”

His fingers keep their heavy, deliberate rhythm— Keith swears he can feel the whorls of his fingerprints dragging across his hypersensitive walls. Each thrust fans the flame just a little higher, and Keith begins to tremble.

“Don’t reach for it,” Shiro reminds him, “but don’t be afraid if it starts to feel too big or overwhelming. I’ve got you.”

Yesterday, an hour,  _ twenty minutes ago, _ Keith would have scoffed. Of course he’s not  _ afraid _ of what he’s been trying to achieve for years.

But as the flames burn hotter, Keith finds that he  _ is _ afraid— as his belly goes molten and his fingers and toes begin to tingle, Keith finds himself terrified that if he allows this blistering vortex any closer, that it will burn him up from the inside and leave him in ashes.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro repeats, like he somehow knows that Keith needs to hear it.

Keith shakes harder, feeling the tension in his muscles ratchet up far beyond his control; he tries to relax and finds he can’t, but he can’t let Shiro stop, not now.

“Shiro, don’t- please, I need- I-I- can’t—” Keith fails entirely to make any sense but Shiro seems to understand anyway.

“Shh, baby, don’t worry, I’m not stopping, not for anything. You’re doing so good, just keep feeling it for me, ok?”

It’s too big, too hot, too  _ much _ — his body wasn’t built to withstand this much pleasure.

“Shiro...oh god...I think- I think I’m gonna—” 

“That’s it, Keith, don’t fight it. You’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking good for me, just let go baby.”

Keith releases the last thread of control he didn’t realize he was clinging to that kept the fire at bay, and it surges forward to meet him.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” Keith gasps and it’s on him, searing waves that roll through him, roaring in his ears as his cunt contracts over and over, trying to drag Shiro’s fingers deeper like it’s trying to milk them like it’s his cock. That thought sends another wave crashing over him, and another, and someone is sobbing out desperate, overwhelmed noises but Keith can’t fucking focus because this is  _ endless, _ and Shiro isn’t stopping— two fingers still sending deep, thrumming vibrations through his dick and two pressing firmly, over and over, against the front wall of his cunt, and Keith had no idea it was even possible to have  _ another _ orgasm before the first one was even finished but it’s about to happen.

“Fuck fuck fuck, don’t stop don’t stop,” Keith cries and barely has a moment to notice that something feels different this time before his muscles lock unexpectedly, and his mouth falls open in a silent scream as he squirts pulse after pulse, soaking his inner thighs and Shiro’s hands and the sheets between his legs.

_ “Fuck, _ Keith, oh my god,  _ baby,” _ someone is moaning but Keith can barely hear it over the slick, dirty squelch of the fingers that piston in and out of him, dragging him through the orgasm until he squirts weakly one last time, hissing from oversensitivity before the vibrations slow to a stop and the fingers pull out of him, more slick dribbling out in their wake and adding to the mess.

It’s barely a second before Shiro is on top of him, panting heavily as he quickly strokes himself, moaning garbled praises and Keith’s name.

“Wait, Shiro!”

Shiro blinks lust-clouded eyes at him, but doesn’t stop stroking himself.

“Shiro, stop, I want you to fuck me.”

“Keith...” It’s clear that Shiro is aware there’s some reason he should protest, but he’s struggling to formulate the thought.

“It’s safe, I promise,” Keith wheedles. “I just- I really need you to fuck me  _ now.” _

Keith’s not even sure why he needs it so bad suddenly, just knows that to be truly sated he needs this night to end with Shiro’s cum dripping out of him.

Shiro still looks hesitant, so Keith plays dirty. “I’ve never let anyone fuck me raw. No one’s ever cum inside me before, Shiro. You’ll be the first.”

Keith knew it would be effective, but he was unprepared for  _ how _ effective. The words have barely left his mouth before Shiro is lining up and pushing into Keith’s sloppy hole, moaning low and long at how Keith’s walls still clutch at him.

“Not gonna last,” he grunts.

“Don’t care.” Keith pushes Shiro’s sweaty bangs from his eyes. “Fill me up, big guy.”

Shiro’s hands close hard around Keith’s ribs, hauling Keith onto his cock with a wet  _ slap, slap, slap _ that rings in the room and makes Keith moan through the sensitivity. For a brief moment, Keith wonders why Shiro doesn’t just grab him by the hips— the leverage would be better and Shiro could lift him up more easily— then he feels a twinge and remembers all the bruising there.

Keith had nearly forgotten completely, but even lust-drunk and desperate to cum, Shiro hadn’t.

“Fuck, I love you,” Keith gasps.

Shiro hunches over, buries his face in Keith’s throat while his hips rabbit forward, chasing, chasing. “Keith,” he moans, lapping the salt from his skin. “Love you, I love you, I love you, I _ \- hah _ fuck m’close, I—”

“C’mon, Shiro, give it to me.” Keith clenches, tightening, trying to make this as good for Shiro as he can. “Be good and let me have it, I want every drop of cum you can give me.”

“Oh god,” Shiro whimpers, and Keith can’t help his little smirk.

Keith nibbles at his ear lobe. “Let go, Shiro. Cum for me.”

“Keith, I—” Shiro’s hips stutter. “Oh fuck I’m cumming,” he gasps, hips jerking gracelessly, taking his pleasure from Keith’s body and filling Keith with the evidence of how good Keith makes him feel.

“Fuck yeah,” Keith groans, Shiro’s pulsing cock unloading in him the final thing he needed to slump boneless onto the ruined sheets. Shiro rides it out with a few more thrusts, staying sheathed inside Keith’s body while he catches his breath. A few moments later, Shiro gingerly pulls out and collapses next to him.

“Holy shit,” Shiro breathes.

“Mhmm.” Keith feels blissed out, loose with bone-deep satisfaction that he’s never felt before. There’s no doubt that it’s partially thanks to the not one, but  _ two _ earth-shattering orgasms he just had, but a significant part, he thinks, is purely because it’s  _ Shiro. _ There’s no doubt now that he’s Shiro’s and Shiro is his and it makes his heart thump almost painfully.

He feels like he’s supposed to say something with the appropriate amount of gravitas for the situation, something that conveys his unwavering devotion for now and evermore. 

What he says is, “I came so hard I think the wet spot has a wet spot.”

When Shiro doesn’t respond for a moment, Keith flops his head lazily to the side to look at him. Shiro’s looking at him, equal parts smug and sheepish.

Keith nudges him. “What?”

“I’m just trying to think of a response that’s an acceptable level of pleased with myself but not  _ too _ self-congratulatory.”

“Mm, I think you and that hand of yours have earned some bragging rights for a while.” Keith pauses. “Speaking of...” he cuts his eyes at Shiro.  _ “Why _ exactly does your arm do that?”

Shiro’s face turns a satisfying pink. “Well, uh, as far as  _ why _ it does that, I have no idea. For how I found out...I feel like whatever you’re imagining is probably not too far from the truth.”

Keith grins. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I can imagine  _ lots _ of things. I think you’ll just have to give me a repeat performance sometime. And then another. And then maybe try it on me again.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Shiro groans, kicking lightly at Keith’s ankles. “You’ll turn me on again.” 

Keith’s grin widens, predatory. 

“Do  _ not _ get any ideas,” Shiro warns. “The wet spot’s wet spot doesn’t need a wet spot, and I shudder to think of what time it is.”

Keith’s grin takes an embarrassed slant. “Yeah...sorry about that. I, um, didn’t know that would happen.”

“Hey.” Shiro cups Keith’s cheek in one palm. “Never, ever apologize for that. That was just...  _ wow, _ Keith.”

“Yeah?”

_ “Oh _ yeah. Now stop making me think about it. You’re too damn sexy for your own good and I’m  _ tired.” _

Keith hums thoughtfully. “So what I’m hearing is that marathon sex is on the table as long as we start earlier in the day?”

Shiro groans, then pulls him into a long, deep kiss. “You should be careful what you wish for,” he murmurs when he pulls back, leaving Keith dazed. “I know how to make you cum and these babies don’t get tired.” He wiggles his prosthetic fingers.

“Oh my god, stop,” Keith protests, “you’ll turn me on again.”

Shiro grins. “Turnabout’s fair play, love.” He kisses Keith once more, short and shallow. “We really need to get out of these sheets, though. Let me get you cleaned up and we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements.”

That sounds good to Keith. “Just come to my room, I put fresh sheets on right after I got out of the shower earlier.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so particular about your sheets.”

“I’m, uh, usually not. Let’s just say your sheets aren’t the first ones I’ve ruined today. That dogfight today was a real cockblock.”

“Are you serious?” Shiro gapes.

“Yeah, we should probably invest in some towels if this is gonna be a regular thing.”

“I will buy every towel in the universe for this to be a regular thing,” Shiro says seriously, smiling when Keith laughs. “So, were you... thinking about any in particular, earlier?”

Keith nudges Shiro with his shoulder. “To answer the question you’re actually asking,  _ yes _ I was thinking about you, and I’d be happy to detail just exactly what I was thinking about, but you told me I wasn’t allowed to turn you on again.”

“I did say that,” Shiro agrees sadly. “Will you tell me later?”

“Sure, as long as you give me all the details of what you think about, too.”

A sly look comes over Shiro’s face. “Deal, but only if you let me act out everything you’ve fantasized about me.”

“Deal,” Keith parries, “but only if you let me act out everything  _ you’ve _ fantasized about  _ me.” _

“Fuck, now I don’t wanna wait.”

“I’m just putting this out there, but if we put your sheets in the laundry now, we could go back to my room and by the time we’re done ruining my sheets again, yours would probably be clean.”

“Keith, you’re a genius. I love you so much.”

Keith’s heart skips a beat. He’s never going to get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too. Man, if I knew the promise of copious amounts of sex was the way to impress you, I would’ve dropped my pants ages ago.”

“Well, you live and you learn,” Shiro teases. “Guess we better start making up for lost time.”

“Guess so,” Keith grins. “I’ve got  _ years _ of fantasies to make up for, so we better get a move on.”

Shiro’s smile is too soft for the conversation they’re having, too sappy when he pulls Keith into a sweet kiss and says, “I guess we better. I can’t wait to give you everything you want.”

Shiro can’t actually give him everything he wants, Keith knows. He wants to not be in the middle of an intergalactic war, he wants his parents to be alive, he wants to eat more than green space goo for all three meals. 

But with Shiro by his side, even if everything Keith has was stripped away, he knows now that he has exactly what he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, let me know with a kudos or comment. Getting feedback means the world to me, and helps inspire me to write more! <3
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/ceiling_pool)!!


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